Pokemon League Elimination Challenge
by Arkytal
Summary: 32 Trainers enter. 1 leave. Maybe.


Pokemon League Elimination Challenge

Chapter 1: Pro-Choice Psycho

"This disgusts me. I've had enough of this. I _refuse _to accept any more challenges from these "so-called" _Masters_." From behind the high-backed chair, the young adult fumed with rage.

"...Yes...Right away...Lord Red." The servant scurried away into the bowels of Silver Manor, away from the psychotic Grand Master. He had ordered a house built upon his former training grounds at the peak of Mt. Silver, the only place where anyone had ever fought him on even ground.

He had searched far and wide for many years after that to find anyone else who could challenge him in a fair fight, and come even remotely close to claiming victory.

Upon finding none, after many years, he returned to this house a changed man. He was violent, plotting the deaths of those who wronged him on even a miniscule scale. The brutal death of a cook via being locked in the steamroom and torched alive by the Torkoal was written off by the police as an accident, but everyone working here knew the truth; Red had gagged her and thrown her in after an argument. Everyone had seen it, but he paid a lot of money to keep us quiet.

As of lately, he's been going on and on about bringing the standard of Trainers back up to par. As his personal aide, I hear a lot more of his ranting and raving than most, and he's planning something, but it's not anything good.

Two weeks ago, he called his father for the first time...ever, I think. He had a long discussion with the older man about needing the support of his business partners, and how he had "come up with a plan that would do him proud".

Now, as I closed and locked the outer gates to the manor, and hung a sign on the gate that informed travellers that all respective challenges would need to be postponed until a later date, I'm not so sure Lord Red is in a sane state of mind.

I can only hope that he doesn't do anything _too_ reckless...after all, he's absurdly wealthy and not too right in the head...those are a bad combination.

Ah well, there's nothing I can do about it. I'm not even a Trainer! I can rest easy knowing that Lord Red's hatred towards "weak" Trainers doesn't extend to me. Though, everyone else in the world probably can't compare to him, so I don't know why he even tries. What's he going to do, kill every Trainer he meets?

Hah, that's rich. Yeah, and I'm an Ambipom, coming to serve you Earl Grey with my tails.

...

"Yes, father, that's perfect. Will the construction of the replica be complete in time for my little show? Yes, I've already wired the money to your account. Alright, I'll be there in three days' time...yes, of course."

For being the head honcho of Team Rocket, even after they had officially disbanded, I still had some grudging respect for my old man. Of course, this only really came about after I killed my first hooker, but that's neither here nor there. Choked her with an Tangela. Her face was priceless!

But that's not important right now. What _was _important was my master plan; my plan to weed out the most powerful Trainers in the world, and bring them together under my tutelage. Then, out of those, only one would become my protege.

You see, the world has stagnated. When I began my travels, as a young boy, the odds were against Trainers. You had to fight to survive, your Pokemon were every bit your best friends as they were tools for survival. There was none of this Xtransceiver bullshit, you had to use TM's strategically; those shattered after one use, and they weren't cheap, either.

No, you were almost _expected _to commit heinous crimes in order to make it to the top. I sure as hell did; by the time I got my 16th badge, I had 6 murders and 3 noise complaints under my belt. The real irony of that one is that I got one of each after I raped Officer Jenny! Yeah, those were the days...

But now, now travelling with Pokemon is like a game to the youth of today. Even those fellow Trainers I grew up with, they've gone soft. Brock, former Gym Leader of the first gym, yeah, he's the owner and operator of a _fucking daycare _now. Oh, sure, he still has his Onix and Golem and everything; but they're used to babysit!

He's a shell of his former self, and while he could've gave me a run for my money years ago, I could squish him underneath my boot in less than a second, given his current state.

Hell, Bruno is a tap-dancing yoga instructor now. His Pokemon haven't seen a fight in years. A shame really; he could probably still kick my ass in a physical fight, but I don't think a Haxorus will be put down by a Hitmonlee with a talent for putting its' legs behind its' head.

Out of everyone I know and have talked to lately, the only one that I can say that I would not call weak, out-of-touch, sellouts, or degenerative is Sabrina. Holy _shit _she will wreck your shit, regardless of how strong you are. I've seen a group of thugs attempt to mug her one night when I was coming out of a nightclub; she killed the fuckers right then and there. Slit their throats with ESP and let them bleed out in the street. I wouldn't invite her to my little get-together even if there was only 32 people left on the planet, myself included. Of course, I'd have her over for the after-party, if only to get me some tight Saffron...uhhh...yeah.

So unless the whole world's youth is magical and spectacular, they're just oxygen thieves for all I care.

So, my plan, as Grand Master Red, is to bring together 32 of the "best and brightest" Trainers from across the lands, to compete in one Pokemon League Elimination Challenge.

They will come, of course they will; to the public, it'll be a competition to become my pupil. Which it is, but I'll leave out the part where everyone gets drugged, stripped of their Pokemon, transported to a specialized arena, fitted with explosive collars, and given a random Pokemon from those taken.

There, they'll fight to the death.

Thirty-two of the best weak links go in, one strong link comes out. Strong enough to train under me, at least.

Sounds like a fair tradeoff to me.

What's that? I shouldn't condone the killing of innocent kids and teenagers in order to further my own plans?

Yeah, well they should've trained harder. I'm living proof of that old adage; if you want something, you just have to go out and take it.

I wanted to be the very best, like no one ever was.

I sure as hell did it. Why can't those little pukes do the same?

I'll teach them.

First lesson: Show no mercy.

I pulled out a drawer in my desk, revealing the pistol my father had mailed to me a week before. Also contained in the drawer were 9 magazines, 7 rounds each.

Just in case, through some slim chance, that everyone _refused _to kill to make it to the top, I would eliminate all of them, and all of their Pokemon, except for one person. I would choose the person who looked the most promising, and if they did not seem cut out for the task, I would send them back to wherever they were from, along with the remaining Pokemon I had taken from them initially.

Why would I be rational after all of that bloodshed? Simply put, that outcome of no one wanting to kill another simply _will not _happen.

Even if kids these days are a bunch of flaming weenies, there's still a few odd ones out that will _totally _spear you through with a Bisharp at the first chance they get.

I'm planning on these kids to make a nice show, too. After all, gotta keep my ratings up on RedTV.

**A/N: The groundwork has been laid, now lets get down to business! I'm still having some trouble laying out who is in this, but I know who WON'T be in it, if that's any condolence. Youngster Joey is already signed up for certain death, don't try to convince me otherwise.**

**Ciao~**


End file.
